


Everything

by SarIIon



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Character Death, Complete, Complicated Relationships, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko Swears, Murder, Romantic or platonic, Sacrifice, Self-Sacrifice, Sickfic, Sickness, Spoilers, all relationships can be either, first chapter can be read as a one shot, headcanons, if you don't want a sad ending, includes canon details, peko punches walls, self deprication, spoilers for anime, unhealthy thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-04 17:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18348092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarIIon/pseuds/SarIIon
Summary: (SPOILERS:Covers events following Natsumi's death in more detail and events of DR2 killing game)Basic Prompt: Fuyuhiko falls into dangerous trances, and Peko tries to find the pattern while keeping him safe.Ch 1: Fuyuhiko murder's Sato, and Peko takes care of a sick Fuyuhiko.Ch 2: Out of all the things she's sacrificed, this one hurts the most.Ch 3: Peko realizes something far too late, and in the end, she gives him everything except the one thing he wanted most.





	1. Trance

**Author's Note:**

> (A/N): Rating for swearing and blood (kinda graphic? Caution please.)  
> Temperature is measured in Fahrenheit not Celsius.  
> Italics= inner thoughts)

"I won't…let you…forget…I…won't…let…you…forget…"

"FORGIVE MEEEEE!" Dark green hair whipped through the air as the girl's violet eyes widened in terror and she desperately dashed away down the corridors, scrabbling to place distance between the two of them.

"Never…" the words wisped from his lips as he glided silently after his prey. Her desperate heaves for air echoed through the deserted halls of the school, but he barely made a sound as he ran. His normally soft hazel eyes were hardened like broken glass, reflecting daggers of light in the flickering corridors.

She screamed, desperate, shrill, pleading, raw—and it was over in an instant. A single perfectly placed blow. "I will never forgive you." A clatter of metal and he was back down the hallway and stepping outside.

Peko turned instinctively at the familiar sound of his footsteps, swiveling to greet him before remembering his orders to keep their familiarity quiet. She sighed internally and quietly began to turn around and continue her walk, sneaking an imperceptible glance his way to check his mood…she stopped.

"Young Master!" In a heartbeat she rushed to him, red eyes briefly betraying fear and panic before she forcefully shifted her face to neutral. He didn't respond. Fresh magenta blood dripped off the side of his face and spread across the left shoulder of his school uniform, blooming across the fabric. "Young Master!" His dull, flat eyes didn't even flicker up to acknowledge her presence; his hands were instinctively clenched as if gripping some invisible object. A quick sweep of her eyes assured her that the blood was not his—and then she froze in realization.  _She had failed…again._

Autopilot took over and she was removing her shirt and tearing open one side seam to form a makeshift blanket; she was wrapping it around the stiff boy's shoulders, and she was picking him up gently, pressing his small frame to her chest before dashing urgently toward the dormitories. Despite the comfortable autumn breeze brushing lazily against her bare skin, he was frigid and limp in her arms.

" _Rapid assessment of injuries, treat for shock, appropriate medical care, careful monitoring… Rapid assessment of injuries, treat for shock, appropriate medical care, careful monitoring… Rapid assessment of injuries, treat for shock, appropriate medical care, careful monitoring… Rapid assessment of injuries, treat for shock, appropriate medical care, careful monitoring… Rapid assessment of injuries, treat for shock, appropriate medical care, careful monitoring…"_ she repeated over and over in her mind.

One well aimed kick and the door's lock rattled in its socket, screws falling to the carpet, permitting her entry to the Young Master's dormitory room. Sliding over the neatly tucked duvet she deposited him carefully on the pillow, tucking the blankets in around him before dashing to her room to drag the sheets and pillows from her own bed to pile on top.

Then she was sprinting, a blur of silver and black as she raced across campus to gather medicine and supplies.  _"Running recklessly is dangerous"_  her sensei's voice chided in the back of her head. She made a single effort to slow down before giving in to the instinctive sprint set by her legs.  _Tsk_  she hissed at herself, she needed to increase her daily discipline training by an hour.

_~.o.~_

Precisely measuring out the powders and mixing them into orange juice to mask the natural bitter taste, she carefully sat the barely conscious boy up in bed and felt his forehead before slowly feeding him the juice by the spoonful. Her fingers gently massaged his throat, encouraging swallows. Just as she had predicted, in the short time she had been gone his skin had snapped from freezing cold to burning hot. It felt paper dry as he collapsed, breathing heavily, into her arms and she carefully tucked him back into the blanket pile. She frowned slightly at the half empty glass before setting it down on the nightstand—only half the dosage? She would need to be more vigilant with the next round at… *she glanced at her watch* 11pm.

The sound of kettle whistles snapped her out of her reverie and Peko quickly moved to fill up several hot water bottles, placing them under the blankets to provide additional warmth. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly at the fluffy, patterned cover of one of the hot water bottles she had grabbed— _what was she doing?!_

It was her job to protect him.  _Why hadn't she brought him to the infirmary?_  She only had basic medical training _…what if…It didn't matter that he hated hospitals…h-hated…would dent the tough image he built up...would tarnish what he thought—selfish selfish selfish selfish selfish selfish selfishselfishselfish_ It didn't matter what he felt about his tool! She whipped around quickly with resolution to whisk him off to the infirmary before freezing; though his visage was still deathly pale, the young master's breathing had relaxed into a gentler pattern and his soft eyelashes had dropped into a serene state. 102° She frowned at the thermometer; if it rose any higher she would transport him immediately. Her hands shook slightly as she placed a cooling towel on his burning forehead and retreated into the hallway, gently closing the door the best she could due to the broken lock.

*Crack* She smashed her clenched fist into the brick wall of the hallway and stabbing pain instantly shot up her arm like lightning. It felt fitting. *Crack* She repeated the action. Blood dripped profusely from the split knuckles rolling down the wallpaper and dropping onto the carpet. The hand had already been bandaged from when she had punched the wall outside the morgue with ferocity less than four days ago, and magenta quickly soaked the white linen.

_useless, useless, useless_

_~.~.o.~.~_

The first incident occurred only a few weeks after the young master turned eight.

"Hahaha, haha catch me if you can Peko!" his freckled face flushed with excitement as he sprinted between the trees of the park, making movements to throw her off. She dashed after him, short braids bobbing up and down; her legs were already a few inches longer and it wasn't much time before she tapped him on the shoulder from behind. "I have caught you Young Master!"

"Aw" he pouted before whipping around "my turn!" he dashed after her, and she evaded his touch by making abrupt turns and changing direction as she dashed away. "Ow!" he shrieked suddenly tripping over a tree root and tearing up "ahhhh"

She was there in an instant, pulling out a fist sized first aid kit from the sword bag on her back. "Are you hurt Young-" her words were cut off as he tackled her playfully to the ground as she leaned over his scrapped knee, and they both collapsed into one another.

"Got you!" he shrieked with laughter. "Ah, not fair!" she protested as they wriggled on top of each other giggling. The warm golden light of the late afternoon sun spilled over the two of them, reflecting shining amber sparkles in the depths of his warm irises. They shifted green as he laughed, round face beaming with happiness, and she couldn't help but break into a wide smile. "You're cuter when you smile" he told her between giggles.

"Waaaah Young Master—" Whatever she had been about to say cut off as she leapt to cover him in a blur of motion, blocking his vision. *Shhhhh* An acrid burning smell filled the air making his stomach churn. Peko gritted her teeth, drew her sword, and desperately tried to keep Fuyuhiko's head buried in her shirt. "Young Master…please do not open your eyes."

The men melted out of the shadows of the trees; dozens upon dozens of black shapes seemed to materialize from the warm air. "Oh oh oh, what a strong servant, to stand after my specialty acid barrage, how precious" a silky voice cooed. "Oooh what do we have here? My, my, my, a practically unguarded heir? How lucky!" another chimed. "Big ransom money you know, reputation booster too" the first supplied.

She hissed through gritted teeth narrowing her eyes to focus her shaky vision.  _At least two dozen men…this was bad. …a chemical attack…how dishonorable._  What they had thrown at her burned, her legs were weak, and her knees trembled as she steadied herself with the sword. "Young Master" she whispered bending down to press her forehead to the top of his head, "I'll create a diversion and shield you. You need to run."

His body was shaking against her's as she carefully shielded his vision, and she felt him clutching desperately to the front of her shirt as the back continued to burn away. He shook his head slightly, a mumbled "hell no."

 _This was bad. This was bad._  She panicked, and twisting her head she caught a gleam of metal as a man shifted. "Firearms…" she blanched as pain shot up her back. It smelled like dust and iron as blood pooled down behind her. She needed to move. She needed to fight before the chemicals reached any vital organs. Untangling the discarded sword bag from her blade, Peko gingerly wrapped the cloth sheath around the young master's eyes and tied it the best she could with trembling fingers. If he could not run she would shield him with all of her body. The practice sword shook slightly in her hands as she assumed a defensive stance. This was bad; she couldn't swing fast enough to block a bullet at such close quarters.

"How boring" a member giggled. *bang* And without warning, pain flashed in her right arm causing her to almost drop the sword. She shifted to get a look at the damage, and knives of agony sliced up her shoulder _. The bullet didn't hit bone but instead, shot clean through her arm. This was bad. This was really bad. Her body itself was insufficient in blocking bullets._

Ragged pain clawed at her back as she did her best to fight a gang lackey sent up to prove his worth in hand to hand combat as the other members jeered and placed bets. He smashed a hard punch into her gut before she took advantage of the proximity to knock him out with a blunt strike. She coughed, using her sword to maintain a standing position as she spat out blood.  _Not good. Possible internal bleeding._

The next one managed to uppercut her with a pair of brass knuckles before he was dispatched. The crowd booed. Then she was diving. She was not sure why, but her shaky legs leapt forward to cover Fuyuhiko's body and then metal fangs sliced into her burning back, and she collapsed coughing up blood as a bored gang member licked magenta from his swords. "How boring."

As the loosely tied blindfold fluttered off the young master's eyes, she tried her best to reach up her arm and replace it before her vision blurred and her hand weakly dropped to the ground. "Young Master…" she coughed, and the world spun.

"Show us what ya got little man" a shadow sneered.

"Can ya do better than this useless pile of shit?" a foot smashed into Peko's side, and the world flashed black.

Then he was moving.

"W-wa, where's the kid?!"

"My gun, where's my gun?"

"What the hell—"

*Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang* The shadows fell almost silently, many in the ring around them and some as they tried desperately to run.

She urgently made one last struggle to focus her vision by narrowing her eyes, and colors blurred, shifting back into the distinct shapes of grass and trees and bodies.

Standing a few feet away in a world of magenta with dark, empty, dull eyes was a boy she did not entirely recognize.

_~.o.~_

Fuyuhiko had slipped into a high fever for more than a week after the incident, and worried doctors had slaved over him day and night until he stabilized.

When Peko finally woke up she immediately bowed to Sensei, reopening a line of stitches across her back. "Peko" her master chastised sternly, "You should be in bed."

"But Sensei!" she winced.

"He is alright Peko. You understand correct?"

She frowned, memories washing up.

"Do you remember when I told you to protect the young master from  _everything_?"

Her eyes widened in realization. "Including himself…"

Sensei nodded. "It takes a serious toll. His body can't handle it" he sighed relaying the incidents following their rescue from the park after it had begun to rain, washing the magenta back into the grass. "One day it could kill him. One day, he might not wake up again."

She nearly bolted out the door before Sensei stopped her with a firm grasp. "A useless tool is no good to anyone, child. Besides, the young master now has a new bodyguard…for the time being." She froze. "Do not worry my child, the other is merely temporary. That is, if you can once again become useful to him."

_~.o.~_

"One, two, hit. One, two, hit. One, two, hit." She had been training for five months since she had woken up. Though physical therapy had been difficult at first, after the internal wounds healed the only remaining signs of the incident were the dents in her upper arm and the map of scars and craters on her back from where the acid worked to eat away her flesh.

"Peko, I believe it is time" Sensei's voice shook her from her reveries.

"Yes Sensei" the girl had grown a few inches, but perhaps the largest change was to her face. It was impassive and emotionless; her mouth came to rest in a neutral line after she directly addressed her teacher. "I am ready."

His head jerked up when she entered. "Hello, it is nice to meet you Young Master. From this day on, I shall be a tool you can rely upon."

She startled as he dove into her. "Where have you been?! Leaving me to deal with this fucking bastard for so long" he gestured at the replacement bodyguard who nodded at Peko and ducked out the door. She took moment to examine him. The young master had grown a bit taller, but his face was still round and childlike, freckles still danced across the bridge of his nose, and best of all, his honey-colored eyes sparkled warmly in the sunlight.

He was trembling slightly as he buried his face against her shoulder though he did his best not to show it. "Do not worry Young Master." _I will become a perfect tool. I do not intend on allowing that other you back anytime soon._ She gently placed one hand on his back and the other on his head as he clutched fistfuls of her shirt, shoulders shaking before breaking into loud sobs. If she was meant to comfort, she would fulfill her duty to the best of her ability. For she was a tool, and she would be useful.

He never saw that open, breathless smile from the day in the park again.

_~.~.o.~.~_

"Fuck" she softly whispered shaking off her reveries. Her lip twitched, the young master's vocabulary was rubbing off on her.

She glanced at her watch: 8pm. How long had she been standing there, shirtless, in the hallway, her hand bleeding down the wallpaper? Mortified she peeked into Fuyuhiko's room to find him still sleeping and changed the cooling cloth on his forehead before dashing to the kitchen to clean off her knuckles, re-bandage her hand, and wipe off the wall. Yanking a plain black t-shirt out of her dresser, she tossed it on and refilled the electric kettle before settling down in an attentive stance in front of his door where she kept vigil all night, occasionally ducking into the room to replace hot water bottles or administer medicine.

"There is nothing between you and me anymore. You aren't a hitman now." He had hissed angrily at her in the alleyway after she had offered to canvass for information on the young mistress' intentions and wellbeing.  _She should have disobeyed. She should have…_ Her non-bandaged hand clenched tightly, fingernails digging into her palm.

Peko had attempted to search for patterns after the second incident, but various scuffles always debunked her theories. The time he had been kidnapped with her, the day after school where a rogue soccer ball had smashed into his face knocking out a baby tooth, the time he fell from a tree before she could catch him and he broke his arm, the instance a surprise bullet aimed at his chauffer glanced into his shoulder before Peko managed to dispatch the assassins…the list trailed on though as she grew older the incidents became few and far between. None of those life threatening failures of hers had triggered the return of  _that_  look in the young master's eyes, merely tears which raked claws across her heart.

"There is nothing between us anymore…nothing anymore…"  _It was her duty to protect him with her life…a duty which lasted a lifetime no matter what he said. No matter what he ended up thinking of her._

She kept her silent watch from the hallway in front of his door, where she was certain he would not see her if he suddenly snapped out of the after effects, occasionally ducking back into her room when students walked past to avoid creating trouble for him.

Her vigil was interrupted on the third night by a distressed whimper, and in an instant she was bending over the shivering, turning boy, tucking him back under the covers he had feverishly tossed off. "cold…" "hot…" he croaked, dry throat rasping.  _Hot_ …his forehead was burning to the touch. 106°…her eyes widened. Infirmary. Now.

She gritted her teeth against his pained groans as she wrapped him up in a bundle of sheets as efficiently as she could so she could carry him through the chilly night air to the building across campus. His pale, flushed face was twisted in pain, his breathing ragged and weak.

Sheer panic tore at her chest as she quickly walked across the quad. "run!" her legs screamed, but she could not place him in any more danger. "RUN!" she strained to maintain the slower, more careful pace as her pulse raced against her. Then she was there.

_~.o.~_

"No external trauma…hmmm…perhaps a psychological link?" the resident had frowned. "You are family right?" She didn't confirm or deny his assumption. "You should stay here tonight. He might look for you when he wakes up." He motioned to the chair beside the hospital bed before walking out to check on other patients.

She froze before moving toward the bed. Lying in the white, ironed sheets with the IV thread trailing from his arm and lights buzzing on the monitor beside him, he looked so small.

 _Useless…useless tools do not deserve to exist…_  Her fingers dug sharply into her palms.  _And she was, she was useless now. The nurses would care for him better than she could. She had only placed him in more danger with her flawed instinctive reaction._ She turned to leave, "I'm s-sorry Young—"

His hand weakly grasped the edge of her shirt "stay." He shifted deliriously, brows twisted in pain.  _The medication would take a while to begin working…_  So she sat down, taking his small flushed hand in hers and gently cupping his face in reassurance.

The next night she almost collapsed over him as she replaced the towel on his forehead. Her eyes fluttered with exhaustion which quickly vanished at the sound of his voice. "cold…" his body was shivering. She turned to the thermostat—Room Temperature: 75°… She shakily stood up to find a hot water bottle. Perhaps the nurse would— "Don't…" he had shifted in discomfort all day though the fever dropped a few degrees much to her relief. Spasms of shivering shook his small frame as his fingers twitched in her direction.

Almost without thinking she unslung the cloth sheath from her back and efficiently inserted herself under the covers moving one hand under his neck and the other lightly to his back in order to wrap him in a ginger, warming embrace. And then he was weakly clutching the fabric of her shirt, pressing his forehead to her chest, and trembling in her arms. His skin, far from cold was feverishly clammy and burning just like long ago.

 _Please…get better Young Master._  She tightened her arms, carefully pulling him closer into her warmth, and gently rubbed his back in reassurance. Though it took a while, the shaking eventually faded and his body relaxed in hers, falling into an exhausted slumber. She allowed herself a small smile of relief, watching his chest rise and fall gently through heavy eyelids before finally surrendering to the call of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Oh man has it been a while since I've written anything, sorry if the writing's a bit stiff haha. It was supposed to be a one-shot but I got inspired to write more so there will be 2 more chapters or so (chapter 3 covering in game events (spoilers obviously))  
> ~So…did you like Peko *literally* giving Fuyuhiko the shirt off her back? Ahaha, I couldn't help myself. To be fair, she didn't have anything else she could cover him with (EMTs regularly wrap patients in blankets to help stave off shock before it sets in)
> 
> ~~To explain, if you wanna hear my thoughts (don't gotta read if you don't want to):  
> ~.~.I kinda wanted to cover the events after Natsumi's death bc the anime was really lacking in detail in that department (made use of some canon details)  
> ~.~.~.Please, please don't romanticize Peko's thought process or self-harming actions, it's quite unhealthy, but I do think it's in character.
> 
> -Some "headcanons" in the story:  
> ~.~.~.~.Fuyuhiko snaps into a dangerous trance triggered by extreme emotions…or is it more than that? (I don't really headcanon this, just thought it made for an interesting prompt. I am like 90% certain Fuyuhiko was the one who killed Sato irl though. It just seems right when I think about it. I want to write maybe another one-shot later in which he doesn't appear so innocent. Let me know if you want to see that :)  
> ~.~.~.~.Since Peko doesn't have any scars on her body you can see from her swimsuit art, I decided to give her some on her back bc it's kinda unrealistic for her to have none if she thinks the way she does.  
> ~.~.~.~.100% headcanon that Peko let herself relax a little at Hope's Peak and make friends (next chapter *wink*) which is why she was a little more unguarded and didn't realize what Fuyuhiko was going to do.  
> ~.~.~.~.Peko can recognize the sound of his footsteps after staying by his side for so long? Heck yeah, I love pure headcanons.  
> ~.~.~.~.I totally believe Fuyuhiko is imagining the whole "the gang doesn't think I'm a worthy heir" thing he always worries about, and that headcanon pairs super well with the trance headcanon :D  
> 


	2. Sakura

The corners of her mouth twitched in amusement as she watched the nurses bustling around him. Perched, hidden in the golden foliage of the tree outside the infirmary window she let out the breath she'd been holding for a while. This time eight days had passed before the young master woke up.  _Longer than last time…_  She frowned slightly before climbing down the branches carefully, amber leaves rustling gently in her wake. She had successfully exited the room before his eyes fluttered open, much to her relief, and if the past incidents were any indication, he likely wouldn't remember any of their interactions during his delirious days. She grinned happily as she walked away from the infirmary. This time she wouldn't put a frown on his happy face, a disappointed frown which she could never seem to avoid no matter how hard she worked to perfect her skills as a tool, an expression which made her stomach drop.

Turning the corner, her vision blurred and she stumbled. Feet clipping into something hard, she fell, sharp pain shooting up her spine as she crashed into the rough bark of a tree trunk. Peko winced imperceptibly as she made a motion to get up. Her arms trembled. Her head felt heavy. A hand to her forehead confirmed what she already knew: she had a temperature. It was unsurprising after the lack of sleep, long vigils, and brief naps paired with high adrenaline levels from heightened stress. Narrowing her eyes to focus her vision, she sighed, rested the back of her head against the solid trunk, and tilted her head upwards to watch the rustling leaves.

Golden-red foliage bobbed up and down on the gentle, warm breeze, and her eyes traced the tree's knarled branches slowly.  _Ah, so it was *that* tree…the tree where she had first spoken to *her.*_  Peko's feet had carried her this way automatically as her mind had wandered. The corners of her mouth turned upwards reflexively into a small smile.

The old sakura tree grew in a private corner of the campus garden, neatly tucked away among bushes and overgrown flowerbeds—a small niche seldom visited by students.  _It was alright after all. The young master would never stumble across her in this useless state._  Her fingers shakily tapped out a quick message to assign a substitute body guard before she let her hands drop in exhaustion.  _Safe…for now he was safe._  Thoughts blurred in her mind as she allowed herself to relax slightly. Here, under this tree, it would be alright if she allowed herself to rest for a little while longer.

~.~.o.~.~

It had been a quiet spring morning just like any other in the small garden alcove.

"Oh, hello, you're Peko right? We're in the same class!" the girl smiled "I'm Chiaki Nanami."

"Greetings" her red eyes flickered briefly in surprise. It was the first time anyone had interrupted her daily meditation sessions under the sakura tree. She checked her watch—three hours of reflection remaining—and settled back down, legs crossed, among the tree roots. Much to her surprise Chiaki sat down next to her.

Chiaki Nanami: Ultimate Gamer. The information the gang extracted revealed nothing special about her background except her strategical prowess. A child living with her father, a well known programmer, she began competing in e-sports tournaments at a young age out of boredom—that was the person sitting beside her. Threat level: moderate.

She glanced at the gamer who had pulled out a handheld console. *tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap* Light, sandy hair, round cheeks, fair skin, average build—yes, her profile matched the information Peko memorized before the school year started perfectly.

"W…want to play?" Chiaki broke the silence, pulling another small console from her pocket, moving it in Peko's direction.

Opening her mouth reflexively to decline, Peko paused.

"Why?! Why are you doing this? I told you I don't need a hitman..." The young master had trailed off, dropping his angry gaze to stare at the ground. "And you go and pull this shit! You know what? Fuck this. I don't care what you do when we get there, just don't act like there's anything between us!"

She signed letting out a small breath. Relax. Fuyuhiko had told her to make friends and leave him alone.  _She wasn't working here. Her duty was void. Here, at Hopes Peak, she was merely a student._  A weight she didn't realize she was carrying lifted off her shoulders. Ahaha, an unused tool set aside in storage…it was a bad sign—so why…why did she feel so light?

"I would be happy to, Nanami," she paused, flipping the strange game device in her hand before Chiaki finally leaned over and pressed the 'on' button "though, you may need to train me in this 'game'" Peko flushed.

And although no one else made their way into her quiet, meditative sanctuary, Peko encountered Chiaki under the tree more and more often.

~.~.o.~.~

 _Warm…_  She shifted sluggishly.  _She felt warm…_

Peko blinked slowly, adjusting to the late afternoon light. Afternoon…wait afternoon?! How long had she been sleeping there? The blanket covering her rustled as she rubbed her eyes blearily, readjusting her glasses. Wait…blanket?

* tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap* "Want some ramune?"

"Chiaki…" Sunshine streaming through the early morning air hit the short strands of Chiaki's hair making them appear almost strawberry pink as opposed to their natural light, sandy brown. The gamer glanced up to hand Peko the bottle with a smile, eyes the color of sakura blossoms shining warmly with sentiment.

"Chiaki...are video games fun to you if you continue to lose…to fail?"

The smaller girl blinked at the sudden question, "I like learning from my mistakes! Especially with puzzles I don't understand at first."

"Even if you fail and fail…?"

"Of course!" Chiaki puffed up her cheeks with emphasis, "every loss is a chance to learn more and get a bit further! Get a little closer to finding the pattern."

Peko shifted, fingers toying with the edge of the blanket. "…what if there is no pattern?"

The gamer put down her console, turning to look her in the eye with pale, fierce irises. "Sometimes on boss levels you need to change your way of thinking to find it. Peel back your assumptions and take a different route."

"I will try that…thank you."

Chiaki smiled, starting up a new game. Peko silently folded up the blanket into a neat square and placed it on the ground before taking a careful breath. "I…I have someone who I must protect...I'm…sorry."

Nanami's pale eyelashes fluttered briefly as she pressed the bottle of ramune into Peko's hand. "It's dangerous to go alone! Take this." Their fingers lightly grazed against each other as Peko's digits wrapped around the bottle. It felt electric.

"...hehe" she softened at the reference, remembering their long nights in the warm summer air beneath old tree. Fireflies had blinked lazily around them as she contently watched Chiaki go through the entire series of games. "Thank you." Peko slipped naturally into a wide, happy grin as she stood up and left the alcove.

The ramune was too sweet to chase the fever fighting pills down her throat, but she forced herself to swallow anyways, finishing the entire bottle before dropping it into a recycling bin. *Crash* Shards of glass tinkled as the bottle shattered against the bottom of the metal receptacle, and in her mind she could see it breaking, light reflecting in beams off jagged edges.

_A tool was garbage when it was not useful. And tools should *always* be useful… a tool should be useful even when its master was not aware he needed it. No. *Especially* when its master was not aware he needed it._

Her red eyes gleamed with resolution as they snapped open. She could not afford to be lax any longer. She would have to move her morning meditation to the dojo and increase her training, starting right now.

That night, as she pulled off her shirt to shower, Peko paused, allowing herself a final, brief moment of weakness to bury her nose in the fabric. Although it was far from the right season, she caught the gentle lingering fragrance of sakura blossoms. Throat tightening, she let the shirt drop into her hamper; it barely made a sound as it fell. Feeling her chest tense, she swallowed hard, breath hitching at the faint taste of ramune lingering on her tongue. Sweet.

Sweet, yet slightly bitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Ahahahaha, sorry I had to. It's a bit of a random pairing/friendship but I do think Chiaki would be a healthy person for Peko to be around and develop some independence.  
> ~Oof, this sacrifice hurts. I wanted to emphasize how Peko relaxed a little and made friends with the class (with the others too but I didn't feel inspired to write other interactions, maybe later), making it more painful for her to return to the way she was before.
> 
> ~Headcanons for this chapter:~  
> ~.~Hope's Peak is rich af so there would totally be a public garden type of place on the quad, and it wouldn't be a stretch to find a hidden little corner of it :)  
> ~.~ Peko canvassed for information on all their classmates and memorized it, and everyone had assigned threat levels. Eventually though, she stopped thinking of them as possible enemies...only to fall back into it.  
> ~.~ 100% headcanon Chiaki smells like sakura. Probably her conditioner or something, but it just feels fitting. I also like the idea of her being raised by a single parent, her father, so I included it in the story. The anime didn't really give her any flaws, but I do hc that she probably had trouble making friends before Hope's Peak which is why she was so surprised to discover it was fun playing video games with friends despite playing them for so long before.
> 
> ~Next chapter: Peko finds the pattern


	3. Live

_Watch him. Protect him. Watch him. Keep him safe._

A small voice at the back of her head urged as soon as she had seen Fuyuhiko head in the direction of the machine. “Peko!” Hajime had called to her, “want to hang out?”

“Perhaps later” She touched the brunette’s shoulder gently before turning around and stealthily trailing the young master.

“Don’t reveal our relationship and make trouble, got it?” He had hissed, golden eyes sternly narrowed.

She frowned from her hidden perch among the leafy shadows of the tree, watching Fuyuhiko fiddle with the game machine in the clearing below her. A part of her had really wanted to hang out with Hajime and the others. It had been a while since she had the chance to make friends outside of the gang after all, and despite being kinda awkward at times, Hajime was a good listener and talking with him made her feel oddly at home.

 _Protect_. The voice urged her out of her reveries, so she simply sat still watching the top of his blonde head as he stood there in front of the machine for three and a half hours playing through the game. Memorizing the final combination of buttons he pressed so she could quickly play through it later, she trailed him like a shadow as Fuyuhiko dodged Hajime’s questions and locked himself in his cottage before opening the envelope.

Her stomach dropped as soon as she recognized the look on his face, a look she had only seen twice before…but it almost felt as if she had seen it more from the way her skin crawled. She quietly narrowed her eyes and bit her lip as the expression faded from Fuyuhiko’s face, replacing itself with a look of resolve. From her precarious perch on the narrow windowsill, she couldn’t quite make out the images on the photos, so she made a mental note to return later as she quickly darted away from the cottage, strategically positioning herself next to the pool. There was a high chance he would head to the resort next as it was the unofficial gathering place, meaning he would pass her on the way. It would be easy for him to covertly tap her on the shoulder as he walked past and inconspicuously command her assistance or advice on the matter which had clearly shaken him.

As soon as he saw her standing there, he instinctively raised his eyes hopefully, moving closer only to jerk back at the last second as she turned to face him. “Hello, would you like to train with me today Young Mas—Fuyuhiko?” she lowered the practice sword in her hand, stepping closer to him and simultaneously dropping the volume of her speech.

“N-no…I’m busy.” He averted his gaze before shooting her a pointed look.

The corners of her mouth twitched slightly with displeasure. “If you change your mind, know that I am _always_ available…”

“Maybe later” his mouth formed as his eyes bored into her, silently commanding her not to push him any further. Peko nodded, biting the inside of her lip hard enough to draw blood as he walked past her, into the hotel lobby.

The envelope was slightly lighter than she expected, the pale, creamy manila surface smooth in her hands as she turned it over, pinching together the metal prongs to push up the flap and remove from inside a thin stack of glossy photos.

“Young…mistress…?” a cracked whisper.

~.o.~

The feeling of bottomless dread intensified as she narrowed her eyes at the “cast” section of the credits, silently matching them with the virtual characters.

_Girl A: Mikan Tsumiki—Threat level: 4_

_Girl B: Hiyoko Saionji—Threat level: 2_

_Girl C: Ibuki Mioda—Threat level: 1_

_Girl D: Mahiru Koizumi—Threat level: 2_

_Girl E: This ‘Sato’ character—Threat level: Unknown_

_Guy F: Fuyuhiko_

_…Corpse: The young mistress…_

~.o.~

 

                _He had always been terrible at lying._ She chewed the inside of her lip in frustration as she quietly slipped back to her cottage, closing the door gently behind her. Sinking down to the ground beside her bed, she rested her back against the mattress side and finally allowed herself to drop the neutral expression she’d been working to maintain all day.

Why would the bear create a motive which only provoked five people currently on the island? She did not understand exactly, but she had a few theories. A focused motive would make it more likely for a student to become a killer after all…

Mikan, Hiyoko, Ibuki, Mahiru, Fuyuhiko—she briefly considered that a hidden student by the name of Sato as a possibility, but dismissed it as soon as she remembered the pictures from the envelope. They had been printed on thick, glossy photo paper which mockingly emphasized every detail in crisp resolution leaving little doubt in her mind. In stark contrast to the pixelated, low resolution graphics of the game, the photos gleamed with sickening clarity and reality. There was a high probability that the events of the game mirrored a real life event which the rest of the students had forgotten…a theory which would explain Fuyuhiko’s reaction—furious, yet not entirely convinced.

Mikan, Hiyoko, Ibuki, Mahiru, Fuyuhiko…

She frowned slightly. If she assumed everyone played the game and managed to reach the hidden ending, it would not mean much to those not directly involved. The possibility of an outsider meddling was low due to  the sheer number of people already involved (which would make it more difficult to manipulate the situation) and Nagito Komaeda (Threat level: 5) being locked away at the moment.

Mikan, Hiyoko, Ibuki— _stop. Stop it. STOP_.

She laughed bitterly, throwing her head back against the mattress edge hard enough to blur her vision. _Enough. Enough. Stop._ Avoiding the reality didn’t make it any less dangerous. _Enough_. There were never five possible murderers which the game could provoke.

There was only ever one.

~.o.~

“Hey Peko” the soft voice greeted, “what are do doing out so late?”

“Oh, Chiaki” Peko flinched, moving the two letters clutched in her right hand out of view before turning to the shorter girl sitting on the pier. Her round face framed with light caramel hair was illuminated by the gentle moonlight of the crescent glowing almost perfectly overhead. She looked almost ethereal. “I’m just…taking a walk.”

Chiaki gently closed the notebook in her lap, setting it down next to an open box of crayons. “…it’s dangerous at night, especially now that there’s a motive.” Her eyes radiated quietly as they met Peko’s.

“I…need to…” She hesitated, red eyes flitting away uncharacteristically to break eye contact. “There is…someone I must protect…” She froze as soon as the words slipped from her mouth. _Why? Why had she said that?_ It made no sense in context, the hand clutching the two letters tightened in panic. _She had only met Chiaki a few days ago, so why did she feel so relaxed around her? Relaxed enough to drop her guard?_

The gamer’s light eyelashes fluttered in the gentle sea breeze, letting the silence hang between them for a few heartbeats before she stood soundlessly, picking up the notebook and crayons. “Can I ask…a question?” The words were almost a whisper as her hand gently pressed the folded paper into Peko’s left palm. “What makes you happy?” Her butterfly light touch lingered for a moment before she moved away, opening the door to her cottage and slipping inside without waiting for an answer. The hard  DS case in her backpack dug uncomfortably into her shoulder blades as she soundlessly slid to the ground against the door, knees buckling as she stared up at the ceiling as if looking for an answer among the support beams.

“…I wonder…what makes you happy…does it make…others happy too?”

Peko’s lips moved softly before she blinked in surprise. The words had floated from her tongue subconsciously though she didn’t remember ever hearing them before. Her left hand burned from the contact. Clutching the folded paper tightly, she followed the path toward the convenience store after dropping off the two letters in their respective mailboxes. Swallowing thickly, she grimaced at the heavy, tight, almost familiar feeling in her chest. _Loss_. It was the feeling of loss, she finally identified _. Why? Why did she feel this way? What had she lost in that short conversation?_

By the time she unfolded the piece of paper, it was creased and damp with perspiration which did nothing to hinder the legibility. The image might as well have been drawn in black ink on white slate rather than brown and pink wobbly crayon on rumpled notebook paper, the effect was the same. Below the childlike doodle of a sakura tree in full blossom was a single character: kata.

Pattern.

~.~.o.~.~

It had been raining that day. The grey skies, heavy, dark, pouring, fueled the uneasy feeling in her stomach all morning as she struggled to focus on her meditation. Sensei was gone on another one of the work calls which no one spoke of except for behind closed doors, and the rain sloshing off of roof tiles made it difficult to keep her mind on track.

Opening her eyes a crack she couldn’t help but slip into a large smile. A while ago Fuyuhiko had ordered her sensei to teach him some basic self defense skills and the young master had grown quite proud of the techniques he learned, popping by occasionally during her lessons to join in. However, whenever he tried to sit through a morning meditation session, he always fell into a deep exhausted slumber from which neither Sensei nor Peko roused him. Today was no exception, she grinned contentedly as she gently draped a blanket over him, running a hand through the short, fluffy hair he hadn’t outgrown. Ever since he entered seventh grade, the workload had almost doubled both at school and home. She was more than relieved whenever he had the chance to rest. Sighing quietly, she smoothed at the dark shadows under his eye with a thumb; the indications of exhaustion didn’t suit him at all.

It was the murmur of voices which finally alerted her to the commotion outside.

Perhaps Sensei was back, she smiled happily, grabbing an umbrella before slipping outside to push past the crowd. The crowd… She paused briefly. Why was there a crowd? Sensei’s comings and goings were usually kept on the down low. The wind ripped at her face, whipping her braids and rain against her skin as she struggled to keep the umbrella from flipping inside out. Finally reaching the gate and the front of the crowd, she winced as puddle water splashed upwards soaking her socks in freezing magenta. _Magenta?…_

The collapsed figure was almost unrecognizable underneath the mutilation, ripped fabric, and vicious lacerations. Rainwater pooled into the cuts as it fell, mixing with magenta to stain the ground water a cruel, mocking pink.

“Sensei? Sensei?!” The umbrella clattered against stone tiles as it dropped numbly from her hands. Her throat hurt. Rain pounded, drenching her clothing as wind ripped furiously. The shaking in her fingers as she did her best to check his pulse had nothing to do with the cold. Nothing. She felt no warmth. Her throat hurt. The world blurred around her. She was vaguely aware of someone screaming, desperate and unhitched. Her. It was her, she realized. She screamed louder.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on?”

“Young Master, please stop.” “It’s not a good idea.” “Please, stay inside.”

“Peko? Is that you?” A pause “…”

She startled at the tap of footsteps, turning quickly in a combative stance only to freeze at the sight of her disturber. “Young Mas—” No. It wasn’t him. Chest convulsing, she gasped to catch her breath, desperately trying to return her expression to neutral. Bad. This was bad.

Even in the ravaging weather, his golden eyes were dull and lifeless, not reflecting any light as he approached a senior yakuza in the crowd. “Information.” A single biting word.

At the old man’s hesitation, he reached forward, grabbing the revolver from another member’s hip holster and unlocked the safety. “Young Master, this is not a good decision. I cannot allow you to put yourself in danger—”

 _*Bang*_ The old man flinched before clutching his dripping arm with one hand “Sire, please understand, this is for your own good—”

 _*Bang*_ “Information.” He repeated quietly, moving the gun towards the man’s chest.

“Fuyuhiko. That is enough.” His father stepped out from the crowd, pulling the revolver from his son’s hands and replacing it with a slip of folded paper “This is what you’re looking for.”

He unfolded the slip, memorizing the address before the rain reduced the thin paper to pulp in his fingers. And then he was walking down the path, past the body, toward the gate.

 _Move. Move now. NOW._ She smashed her fist into her thigh repeatedly to no avail. Her legs wouldn’t budge. Why? Why now? Desperately she surged forward, grabbing the bottom corner of his pant leg as her face smashed into the cold stone path. “Stop…Young Master…don’t go there!”

He turned silently, amber shards coldly meeting her eyes before lifting his foot up to bring a steel heel down hard on the back of her head.

*thud* The world went black.

~.o.~

 _Stop…please…_ She startled as she woke up, sitting up quickly enough that her vision blurred, head pounding with dull pain.

“The young master has not yet returned.” The voice of a younger yakuza sounded beside her as he changed the bandage on her head. “He gave you quite the kick didn’t he?”

Memories of the morning rushed back, and she clutched her left arm tightly, viciously digging her nails into the flesh. Failure. Failure. She should have known her screams would have stirred him. Why had she lost control like that? If she didn’t make such a loud racket, the young master would’ve been unlikely to see the body before it was cleaned up. The impact would have been lessened dramatically _. It was her fault. Her fault. Her fault._

Someone had moved her inside and changed her into dry clothing. She patted the back of her head as the gang member finished bandaging her up, wincing at the pain which mere contact caused. The kick had likely opened a wound from the feel of it. Staggering, she climbed out of bed, only to lose balance as the room spun. “Steady there” The other chuckled with surprise, catching her before she toppled over.

“I need to…help” She groaned, pressing a cold palm to the back of her neck to help alleviate the pounding headache before pushing him away.

“You know he’s fine…until he returns at least.” He gently chided, handing her an umbrella “If you have to go out and wait for the young master, at least take this.”

The cleanup crew had done their job efficiently as always and the stone path in front of the gate left no indication anything had been amiss merely a few hours ago. Heavy rain innocently erasing all remaining traces as it had continued to fall all day, only the nausea in the pit of her stomach reminded her a corpse had been lying there earlier. Turning away from the spot, she carefully focused her gaze on the horizon where the young master would appear in her line of vision the second he turned toward the house.

It was pointless to go running after him no matter how much her instincts screamed at her, because she had no idea where he had gone. It was not her place to know the type of information connected with covert missions, and there was no way the Master would tell her, she sighed and settled back to wait.

Her body froze as soon as she spotted the lone figure approaching in the distance. Young Master. She wanted to call out and greet him as if everything was okay and nothing had changed. Throat tightening, she felt her chest constrict as he got closer. _What was wrong with her?_ The hand clutching the umbrella trembled convulsively, and her eyes widened with realization. Fear. She was scared. Scared of the cold, blank look in his eyes, of the stiff posture, of the quiet words, of the frigid bloodlust which radiated off of him in waves—scared, she was scared of him.

He stopped in front of her, meeting her worried eyes with a frozen, lightless gaze for a brief moment. The silence seemed to stretch on between them, pouring rain forgotten.

 _Move_. The umbrella flew from her hand with a skitter as her fingers forced themselves to release their tight grip on the handle. _Move_. This time her feet listened, dashing forward as she swallowed hard against her fear, ignoring the whipping rain as it slashed across her face, soaking into her shirt and hair. _Move_. She strained forward wrapping herself around him, barely managing to catch him in her arms as he collapsed. Water seeped into her clothing almost immediately as she clutched his small body tightly in her arms, briskly covering the distance back to the house.

Fear for her life was nothing in comparison to the chilling dread she felt at the possibility of losing him.

~.~.o.~.~

That had been the second incident, she frowned, biting down hard on the inside of her lip, it was painful to remember. Pattern. It sounded so familiar, almost as if she had pondered it before many times.

The first incident: when his life was in danger. The second incident: to exact revenge for Sensei. The next possible incident: to exact revenge for Natsumi

She could stop him from killing Mahiru in revenge if it came to that. She _had_ to. It would not be as difficult as it seemed as she had already dropped him the hint the photographer would be at the beach house tomorrow, and neither Hiyoko nor Mahiru seemed any the wiser of her notes. The plan was going as she had drafted down to the smallest detail…so why? Why did she feel so uneasy? It was almost as if it was too simple.

Kata. Pattern. She frowned hard at the crayon character. Pattern.

The first incident…it didn’t fit in the pattern. It had been triggered by the life threatening situation…but Fuyuhiko had been in many life threatening situations after that one, and the others never triggered the trance. But it was a life threatening situation…that was the only possible explanation. Perhaps he had slowly gained more control over it? Wait. She blinked in confusion, no, she was remembering wrong. It had not been a life threatening situation, it had never been one. The rival gang members had explicitly stated they were just after ransom money…it had been a simple hostage situation in which a tool had to be disposed of because it was in the way. They had not even indicated they’d harm Fuyuhiko at all before he snapped. She frowned, rubbing her temples in vexation. It made no sense, they had clearly been keen on taking him as an unharmed bargaining chip, so why had the trance triggered?

He’d been almost kidnapped many times after that, sometimes even being injured in the process to shut him up, before she managed to find him or stop the kidnappers. And in those times, he’d just cry, clutching her tightly as he shook…even though he had been in mortal danger a few moments ago there was no sign of the deadly bloodlust, no corpses, no magenta. What was the pattern? She hissed lightly in frustration, if only she hadn’t been so dizzy from the wounds and bloodloss, perhaps she could’ve examined the first incident more clearly. _Useless. Useless. What kind of tool was so—_ She paused suddenly, eyes widening. No. It was impossible. There was no way.

_“…I wonder…what makes you happy…does it make…others happy too?”_

The way he had always called her by her first name, always went out of his way to find treats in matcha flavor which she enjoyed, the way he furrowed his brow whenever she offered to find him potentially dangerous information and the way he frowned at her injuries and scars pushed at the doubt in her mind. Had he always been that way? Ever since they were young? Always? …Yes, her thoughts finally relented.

Yes, he had.

He had always been that kind.

So that was it, a chance for the bear to unleash some extra excitement. Another, hidden motive. She would have to be cautious after the trial. Clenching her hand to stop the shaking, she gently slid the small folded note beneath Chiaki’s door before retiring for the night.

_‘I found it. Thank you.’_

~.~.o.~.~

Pressing his face gently to her chest she breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the strong carotid pulse in his neck. The wound she’d inflicted on him hadn’t been as deep as she feared, the mannequin blocking most of the force, and he was merely unconscious from the stress. In fact, it had worked out better than she could’ve hoped. Gently smiling, she lowered his body to the ground as the crowd of mannequins surrounded them.

From the start she had been prepared to give him everything. And she did, beginning with her time. Her daily training and sword practice was for him. The clothing she wore was carefully selected to make her appear subtly intimidating as she accompanied him. But she didn’t mind at all, in fact, she enjoyed all the careful details she put into her actions and routine each morning.

She was not sure when, but at some point she had dedicated herself completely to her role as his tool, far exceeding what was expected of her as a bodyguard. Not because it was her duty, but because of a simple, selfish reason: she wanted to protect him against the cruelty of the world. She wanted to protect his shining eyes, round cheery face, and the bright smile he slipped into whenever she brought him new sweets to try. 

So she had given him:

the skin off her back,

her undying loyalty in every regard,

her wellbeing and rest whenever she could, and

her emotions, set aside in favor of keeping him safe.

 

Now, there was only one thing left to give him.

She smiled sadly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before positioning herself carefully to shield his body with her own as the mannequins rushed forward. This time, it was alright, she was free to give him her life without worry that he would burn a piece of his in return.

As darkness closed in from the corners of her vision, she couldn’t help but smile against the pain. Even now, his face was the sun.

_Live. Fuyuhiko._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~HeadCanons in this chapter~:  
> -AI Chiaki has memories of Hope’s Peak High School: Yikes, this is angst material, but since the AI was designed before everyone entered the simulation with their combined happy memories of Chiaki…it seems likely.  
> -Peko would like matcha (green tea essentially) flavored sweets: they usually aren’t super sugary and they have a really light and refreshing traditional taste!  
> -Fuyuhiko is comically bad at video games, especially horror/murder mystery ones
> 
>  
> 
> -The quote is from Zelda if anyone was wondering (Moon Child). It’s really beautiful and I 100% headcanon Chiaki just randomly has tons of game quotes memorized for random situations.  
> -Yo, can we just talk about how rigged the second chapter was motive wise? Idk, but it just seemed really one sided to me…like who was it really gonna provoke? Come on Monokuma. I feel like it could’ve been more fun if it showed everyone personalized traumatic events they forgot, but it would’ve probably been difficult to write. Just compared to all the other chapters where everyone had a somewhat similar chance of being provoked to murder, this one seems kinda unfair.  
> -If it was hard to understand, the pattern was that Fuyuhiko snaps whenever someone he loves dearly dies/he thinks they died, mostly triggering a vengeance spree. The reason why Peko had such a hard time figuring it out was because she never even considered that he valued her on the same level as Natsumi and Sensei. So naturally, she had to conclude that the first incident was to save his own life…which would throw off the pattern.  
> -Sorry if you think anyone was out of character, it was my first time writing any of them! Feel free to leave constructive criticism!
> 
> -I’d absolutely adore and treasure comments if you enjoyed the piece or have any suggestions!


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